His Only Light in Darkness
by Overworkedunderwhelmed
Summary: A series of soliloquies in the wake of Season 4, Episode 6: The Good Samaritan. This work will contain spoilers for the most recent episode.
1. Chapter 1

_He called her his only light in the darkness._

 _That's almost romantic! Almost._

 _ **Season 1, Episode 19: The Only Light in Darkness**_

* * *

The last thing he recalled was the flashing light and klaxon that had heralded the end. The power surge wave clearly struck with a force that had sent him reeling backwards into oblivion.

Fitz slammed his eyes shut against the bleak landscape. He could easily just assume that this was the end. Everything was endlessly dark although there were patterns in the inky darkness. Pools that ebbed and flowed in mathematical patterns that would otherwise had him wishing for his full array of gear to tease apart the mysteries. Instead, he just felt numb and cold.

Communications had been so bad that Fitz couldn't be sure if he was here alone or if Mack had managed to get clear.

Or any of the others.

* * *

After what felt like hours, his calves were aching in protest. He was so damned tired that he was resorting to mentally cursing the cosmos. Even talking was wearing him out that much faster, and he had to keep moving How did Jemma keep her mind going day after day and week after week in that dark abyss that was Maveth? She was alone for a time. But he didn't remember it being this wretchedly cold…

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, futilely hoping for some of the warmth to transfer. His fingertips grazed chilled metal.

Frantically, he dug it out of his pocket. He didn't mind the cold if meant some sign from Jemma.

It was all for naught. No signal. No call notifications.

But it was blessed light, if only for a moment, the electronic glow ringing around Jemma's picture like a halo. Fitz drew a heavy breath, wincing as he dragged his fingers across the screen. Her smiling face was as close to heaven as he might see in this endless hell.

Frowning, he powered it down. Jemma had to conserve power. Her phone had been the tool to save him. Given the opportunity, how could he wish to do more but return the favor.

He searched his mind, desperate to keep going somehow for her. He could only hope that she would reach out to him - to miss him - eventually. She could be mad at him all she liked just so long as he could make it back to her side.


	2. Chapter 2

He remembered the frigid cold that gripped him before the memories had faded away. He remembered the anger at the one who had killed him. He remembered the regret he felt for Audrey, for letting the Avengers down.

But this time...didn't quite feel like death, at least not what little he remembered of it. To be fair, considering those memories had been stolen from him. He really had no basis of comparison.

Phil sighed, spreading his limbs wider in the water and willing his body to float. His prosthetic arm was far heavier and kept sinking below the inky liquid. He felt pain, mostly where his back had hit the water's surface. Mentally, he was chiding himself, letting the more viscous liquid spill through his fingers. 'I knew I should have pushed May harder for details on that. I just didn't realize I'd need it so soon.'

He'd long accepted that risk was part and partial of the job. Regrets just went hand in hand with that risk, all in the service of a greater good.

In general, life was turning around for the better. Just when he got the chance to try to make things right with Daisy. Just when things with Director Mace were coming to a head. Just when May was actually starting to open up more...

Raising the heavy prosthetic from the water to quell the pressure lingering in his temples he, kicked more actively with his legs to keep above water.

There was so much that felt...unfinished. All in far too many ways.

He was a man who had been blessed with second chances.

He damned well wanted a second chance this time, too.

His eyes scanned through the near darkness. If he truly wasn't dead, then he needed to find the shore before his muscles wore out.

Coulson swam forward slowly, hoping for some better vantage point or some brighter point that might acts as a lighthouse to shore. He was far too careful not to swallow the liquid. It certainly wasn't water, but he wasn't in a position to think too hard of what it might be at the moment. It was already seeping through Fitz's watertight seals on his prosthetic and would probably be useless to him before too long.

Eli Morrow was still an incredible threat. Even he hadn't suspected, not until things were far too late. Phil cursed his still rusty field instincts. He had been sitting at that desk for far too long.

He desperately needed to get to shore and let May know somehow. She would ensure that the team was protected, even if he couldn't be there to do it.


	3. Chapter 3

His fists were bloodied and every muscle burned in protest. He was God only knew where, far away from Gabe. His kid brother could be pissed at him later. But for now, he needed to get back. If that ghost hadn't lied - and she did think she would manage to kill him shortly thereafter - then his was a far bigger threat than he had ever known.

Gabe would stubbornly turn from him to their tío, never suspecting he was likely the far worse demon than the other guy that haunted him.

Robbie's jaw clenched. He could only hope that Daisy could manage to stick to his brother like glue and keep him out of trouble until he could manage to get back. She might be haunted by her own personal demons, but she couldn't quite turn away from someone in trouble. Even the other guy had to admire her for that.

It was the only consolation he could take right now. He certainly couldn't count on SHIELD, not with the Director was out to get him. Possession by the devil with a drive to exact vengeance on the guilty wasn't exactly the easiest thing for people to come to terms with, though Daisy had done so admirably.

Gabe could claim that he doesn't need him. To be honest, he did manage with very little support. But Gabe was the only normalizing force in his now very inhuman existence.

This wasn't life - not really. It was penance. A penance he couldn't fulfill stranded in the middle of nowhere trapped in this pitch black rock.

He struggled against the solid black pitch, his now blood slick fingers failing to gain any sort of traction against the hard surface. It was an exercise in futility for his normal form. The other guy might have a bit better luck, but he was desperately trying to keep his head straight.

There was no one here to punish but himself.

Notes:

I've not done much digging through the comics, so my voice for Robbie is far more from the show's interpretation. This is absolutely the first time writing him even though I do really like the character.


End file.
